Who hurt you?
The other day, I had a woman who in an attempt to "be helpful,” decided to tell me that I was “wrong” for dropping out of the college I had a free ride at, that I was “wrong” for choosing to live child-free, and that I “better shape up” in order to marry an “acceptable man.”
Part of me wanted to slap her, but the truth is I've gotten used to hearing similar sentiments to hearing from many people in my life. And, realistically, she probably could have pressed charges if I actually hit her.
I know very well that the life I lead is controversial by nature: I’m queer. I dress weird. I don’t have a degree from an Ivy League University, and I have been perfectly fine with being surgically sterilized at 27. I gave up on loving men, but not on drinking or loving other genders.
In other words, I’m everything straight-laced people were born to hate. By nature, my lifestyle is considered "wrong" by many but I feel I need to offer a rebuttal to people who feel the dire need to reach “out of concern” to me.
So, to the many “concerned” people out there: Let’s just be real here.
We both know you don’t really have any concern about me. In fact, the fact that I exist probably just pisses you off. How dare someone be different from you? You’re clearly perfect and probably have rainbow-colored diarrhea.
Well, I dared to be different because I realized no matter what I did to please you, I’d never live up to the double standards you and society have set for me.
Unlike you, the person who chooses to hide their flaws by browbeating and bullying others, I learned to love my flaws.
Unlike you, I don’t hide my insecurities behind a bible, a judgmental look, or a sneer.
I, in fact, am concerned for you. You don’t seem happy with your life. If you were, you wouldn’t really give a sh*t what some random stranger does.
Tell me: Is there a reason why you feel like you need to tear me down? Be honest with me. Who hurt you? Who made you feel like the only way you could be loved is if you lived the "right" way?
While I am concerned for you, I’m not going to say I like you because frankly, I don’t. I don’t like judgmental pricks, period. I also don’t like bullies, and you definitely fit in that role if you feel you can harass people over their life choices. I also don’t like people who are so unhappy in their lives but refuse to admit they f*cked up and fix it.
It’s OK, though, because Jesus loves you. Actually, he may love you but he probably doesn’t really like you that much either due to that “judge not lest ye be judged” bit he talked about.
But then again, you seem to think you’re him half the time, considering how “holier than thou” you tend to act. That being said, you should probably get help. It’s not good to think you’re Jesus, sweetie.
Well, I probably just spent way too much time writing this. I should go do something more important than this... like getting a drink or taking a piss. Ciao.
With much “concern,”